The Day the Light Left
by PennyStarling17
Summary: Everyone believed in Captain America, but only one person believed in Steve Rogers. And now that person is gone and Steve is falling apart. Unbetaed and kind of sad. A sequel is in works.


Steve sat alone, empty glass beside him, the bombed out dance hall just another symbol of everything he had lost.

He poured himself another drink, still trying, despite logic, to get drunk.

Dr. Eskrine had told him about the possibility that he would no longer be able to get drunk, but he had dismissed it easily. He hardly ever drank and when he did, it was never enough to get drunk.

(He'd only been drunk once before. Bucky had been there with water and a lecture the next day.)

But now? Now he wanted to get so drunk that he could just forget it all. He wanted to get as drunk as humanly possible and forget the cry of his name from Bucky's lips as he fell. He wanted to forget the terrified look on Bucky's face.

Bucky wasn't suppose to look terrified. He was the brave one, the one who was confident in everything he did, the one with all the answers. The terror on Bucky's face should have never been there. It didn't suit him.

-It wouldn't have been there if you had gotten to him in time. You were too slow, Rogers- a spiteful voice snarled at him. -The one time Bucky needed you and you were too slow. Fat lot of good your new body did.-

Steve let out a shuddering breath and reached for the bottle.

The Howling Commandos were leaving him alone, but he could see the questions in their eyes. No one understood why Steve was so crushed by Bucky's death. To them, Bucky was just another soldier and sure, they were best friends and all, but shouldn't he be able to move on? Shouldn't he be able to pick himself back up and continue fighting?

They didn't understand that Bucky had always been there for Steve. He was the only thing that had remained constant in Steve's life since he was ten. He had always known when he was needed to help win a fight, when Steve was having an asthma attack, when he needed someone with him on the anniversary of his ma's death. He always knew.

Steve never did. He never knew when Bucky needed help, never knew when he needed something, hell- he hadn't really even thought about Bucky all that much when he had first gotten the serum, beyond his first timid worry of "What will Bucky think?" before Dr. Eskrine had been shot.

He had been focused on his new body, how he could take a deep breath easily, how fast he-

-No, you were too slow. If you had been fast, Bucky would still be here.-

Steve let out a soft sob and buried his face in his hands, Bucky's voice echoing in his head.

("You ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?"

"Hell no! The little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight. I'm following him.)

Everyone, Steve thought bitterly as he wiped the tears away, believed in Captain America. But Bucky had been only person who believed in Steve Rogers. And he really couldn't blame them. Who was Steve Rogers? Just a skinny, 90-pounds-when-soaking-wet stubborn asthmatic artist with a sketchbook to his name. Bucky had been the only person to believe in that kid.

(Ok, maybe there were two people, if he counted Dr. Eskrine, but Steve hadn't been in love with him.)

And now it was too late to tell him that.

It was too late to tell Bucky that he was in love with him.

It was too late to tell him that he had always been in love with him. Had been since they were ten and Bucky had beat up the kids that had given Steve a bloody nose and a black eye.

Too late to tell Bucky that he had already found the right dance partner, that Steve would have been happy to spend the rest of his life with him.

It was too late because Steve had been to slow and now they didn't even have a body to bury.

-It should have been you, Rogers.- His mind supplied, still sounding furious and disappointed. -Bucky had a future, he could've settled down with a nice dame and have some kids and a nice life. Instead, he died saving your ass.-

(The light in Steve's eyes had left him as Bucky fell from the train and nobody could understand why. The only person who had a chance of getting it was being experimented on in a Russian lab, hundreds of miles away.

Not that Steve knew that, of course.)

* * *

There is a sequel in works.


End file.
